


The Guinea Pig Wall

by hutchynstarsk



Series: Guinea Pig Wall [1]
Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: Gen, guinea pigs, post-SR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 00:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchynstarsk/pseuds/hutchynstarsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starsky and Hutch go to a fair, post-Sweet Revenge.  Starsky, who is showing less interest in most things lately, is fascinated by the guinea pigs...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Guinea Pig Wall

The Guinea Pig Wall

  


  


_1680 words.  Rated G.  A post-SR story._

  


  


  


“I don’t know if this was such a good idea, Hutch.”Starsky leaned heavily on his cane.A sheen of sweat stood out on his forehead, and he looked tired already.

Hutch stopped walking immediately and turned to face him in the middle of the fair’s wide walkway.Around them, the sounds and smells of fair food, carnival barkers, and excited children flowed.

“You want to go back home, buddy?”

“No.”Starsky stared at him.“First time in a long time we’re doing something just for fun and not ‘cuz it’s good for me.”

It had been months since Gunther’s attack, and Starsky still needed a lot of physical therapy. He’d gotten a bit stubborn about it, too—no longer throwing himself into it, sometimes rolling his eyes and refusing to push himself.He’d just gotten—tired.Or that’s how he seemed, anyway.Tired of trying.

Hutch was hoping this trip to the county fair would revive his interest enough to make him push himself a little bit—not too far—but further than just sitting in front of the TV and not seeming to care how fast his recovery progressed.

“Okay, you don’t want to go home, but do you need to?”

Starsky frowned.“Oh, nothing much.I just gotta find something at the fair that doesn’t take a lotta walking, a strong stomach, or a head for heights!”His voice rose in frustration.

People streamed around them, carrying stuffed animals and various eatables (including big bags of pink cotton candy).They ignoring the two off-duty cops, the one tired-looking and leaning heavily on a cane.

Hutch moved to his side and took his other arm.Starsky allowed it—and not just because he was exhausted.Since he’d given up pushing himself, he’d been accepting more nursemaiding from Hutch—not as though he enjoyed it, but accepting it anyway.

Hutch was glad to help, but it bothered him that Starsky would give up trying to manage on his own.

Hutch thought.What  _could_  you do at the fair that fit those requirements?And what had he been thinking, taking Starsky here?It was almost cruel—showing him all the things he used to love doing and now couldn’t do.Forget speeding along his recovery.How about just not making him suffer more?

“Um, how about the animal barn?”Hutch led the way, and Starsky allowed him, leaning heavily on him and the cane.

“Mm.”Starsky grunted agreement.

“Lot of birds there, and rabbits—hey, I think I saw in the paper there are even guinea pigs!”

“Guinea pigs?”Starsky perked up, glancing at Hutch to see if he was joking.

“Yeah, prize-winning guinea pigs.Something like that.”

Starsky’s guinea pig Louise had died not long before his shooting.Hutch had never had much fondness for the ‘oversized rat’ as he used to call it, but Starsky had mourned the little creature deeply.

Hutch had broken down and offered to buy him another one.

“No.No thanks.It wouldn’t be Louise.”

And they’d left it at that.But now… looking at prize-winning rodents just might cheer Starsky up and distract him from all the things he couldn’t do.

“Here we go.”They reached the indoor barns and started inside.Hutch kept hold of Starsky’s arm, supporting him.“Why are they called ‘pigs,’ anyway?”

“I read something about that.Can’t remember…”Starsky sounded out of breath, quieter than usual and not by choice.Hutch bit his lower lip.

“Here they are.”A big grin spread across Starsky’s face.“Lookit ‘em.”He nodded at the long row of guinea pigs in wire cages.They lined a small part of one wall, taking up much less room than the poultry, pigeons, and rabbits.

Starsky made his way haltingly down the row, pausing to bend his curly head and talk to each animal.“Hey, buddy.How you doing in there?Blue ribbon, huh?Must be proud.Aw, Hutch, isn’t that white one somethin’?”

Hutch tried hard to drum up interest.After all, it had been awhile since he’d seen Starsky lose himself in something so happily.“Sure, Starsk.”

“Hey, would you look at this?”Starsky pointed to the paper tag.“He’s for sale—ten bucks!Ten bucks for a blue ribbon guinea pig!What’re they thinking?!”

“Dunno, Starsk.”Hutch scanned the aisle.“It’s the same for a bunch of them—here—here—”

Starsky moved on.“An’ look at this, Hutch!”He bent over at a long-haired guinea pig with whorls on it, like Louise.“Not enough swirly things in her hair!How can they say that about this cute little girl?She’s gorgeous!”

Someone walking towards the rabbits cast Starsky an amused glance.Hutch gave him the stony Hutchinson stare until he averted his gaze and walked past.

“What’s that, Starsk?”

“This ‘pig.She’s not good enough for ‘em!Come on, isn’t she a looker?”

Hutch leaned closer.“Eh, yeah.A real beauty.”

Starsky cast him an amused, contemptuous look.“Can’t tell ‘em apart, can ya, Hutch?”

Hutch, still holding Starsky by the elbow to support him, straightened and ran fingers back through his hair.“Aw, Starsk, give me a break.I’m trying.”

“S’okay, Hutch.I know ya are.”He reached over to clumsily pat Hutch.His coordination had gone downhill since the shooting.It always made Hutch sad to witness how much.Sometimes he could actually, for a few minutes, forget about how much Starsky had been hurt.But something always reminded him.

“Well, least her owners aren’t trying to sell her,” said Starsky, casting the long-haired guinea pig another glance, slightly mollified.He released Hutch’s arm and moved down the aisle slowly on his own.

Hutch leaned closer to stare at a large-eyed sleek brown adolescent drinking water.It was kind of interesting the way their ears bounced.He had to admit, he probably could’ve tried harder to like Louise…

“Hutch!Hutch!”

“What?!”Hutch moved to him quickly, alarmed by the panic in his voice.

Starsky grabbed his arm.“Hutch, they’re selling  _her_.” He pointed to the last cage.His arm couldn’t stay up long and began to wobble down.

Hutch took it gently by the elbow and guided it back down.“What, Starsk?Don’t panic.”

“Sorry.”Starsk took a breath.“Don’t wanna scare her.She just had a baby, Hutch.Look at her.She looks so stressed.What a tiny baby.Look, the note says she just had it last night.Who would enter a pregnant guinea pig, when they gotta know she’s about due?She shouldn’t be stuck here.All this noise—all these people—she looks terrified.Oh, she doesn’t have enough whorls either.They’re selling her.That’s loyalty for ya.”

Hutch leaned closer, squinting to view the dark cage.Sure enough, there was a petite female guinea pig with longish hair and a few whorls (he couldn’t tell if it was too few; it looked fine to him).She stood in the corner with a terrorized, stressed look on her little face.A miniature, furry guinea pig with its eyes already open nursed on her. It was so small.How could its eyes be open already?

“Hutch.”

Hutch straightened, and turned to see Starsky’s determined expression.Fierce Starsky.Starsky you don’t mess with.Fire-in-his-eyes Starsky.

And Hutch could’ve wept tears of joy.It had been a long time since he’d seen that Starsky.Starsky beaten down by life, he’d seen.Starsky accepting his limitations.Not Super Starsky, who could do anything he set his mind to.

“I’m getting her.”

“You’re getting her,” said Hutch, accepting it, instantly.

Then they laughed, because their voices had overlapped.

“Uh, Hutch?You’ll hafta carry the cage.”

“Not a problem, buddy.Now let’s find somebody in charge.”

“Okay.”He gave a nod, and leaned close to the cage again.“Aw, Mama!I’m gonna take such good care of you and your baby…”

Half an hour later, Starsky had paid fifteen dollars for the mother and baby, and another five for the cage.Hutch carried them carefully, exhorted constantly by Starsky not to jostle or scare them.They’d slung a jacket carefully over the back of the cage so the mother and baby had cover from bright lights and noisy crowds.

Starsky leaned heavily on his cane, but kept an arm linked through Hutch’s elbow.He also kept up a breathless, quiet chatter all the way.

“Wonder what nursing mothers need?Hutch, I think I’m gonna need to buy a book.”

“Or borrow one from the library.”

“I shoulda asked someone, but most of ‘em seemed to be there for the rabbits…”

Starsky insisted on holding the cage in his lap on the drive home.He talked softly to the terrified mama guinea pig, and occasionally told Hutch to slow down.

Hutch, already going at a sedate pace, gritted his teeth and said nothing.

Stairs were too much for Starsky after the shooting; he’d moved to a modest ground floor apartment not far from Hutch’s place.Hutch set the cage on the kitchen table.

“Okay, you’ll need to find somewhere permanent for this, no drafts, quiet, and we ought to leave them alone to adjust to their new environment.”

“Of course.I know dat.But she’d gotta have some food, doesn’t she?Nursing Mom, Hutch!Lemme get the carrots.”

He lurched towards the fridge, and with one jerky, ill-judged step, his legs were out from under him.He sprawled to the floor.

“Starsk.” Hutch knelt and took his arm, ready to help him up.“You all right?”

Starsky pushed his hand back carefully, and with a grimace, looking up from his undignified sprawl on the floor.

“Lemme do it, Hutch.I gotta do it myself.”And then he gave Hutch a grin that was purely angelic.“After all, I got somebody to take care of now.”

Hutch sat back, a grin twitching his mouth, trying to swallow back the sudden urge to weep.“Yeah, Starsk.You sure do.”

He patted Starsky’s shoulder, and stood up.He wouldn’t watch.He wouldn’t mama-hen.Starsky needed to do this himself.

But…

_I thought you had me, Starsk._

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<<<the end>>>

  


_This is based on a real story. I visited the guinea pigs at the local fair, and there were far fewer than the other animals and birds.Some of the prize-winners were for sale for surprisingly low prices—ten to fifteen dollars.And I did see one brand-new mama guinea pig.Her baby was tiny and nursing, and she looked terrorized by all the noise, poor thing.The note said she’d given birth last night—and she hadn’t won a prize because she didn’t have enough rosettes or whorls (or whatever they’re properly called). She wasn’t for sale, however._

  


  



End file.
